


Like a Pawn Checkmates a King

by renegadeartist



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, GTA V AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renegadeartist/pseuds/renegadeartist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: GTA AU Song Red Flag by Billy Talent. Ryan feels that the Fake AH crew is holding him back so he leaves and then a couple years later he storms the Fake AH hq with his new crew, that he now is the leader of, full of young teen anarchists and delinquents this crew is much larger then Fake AH. in this you get to see how Ryan can go from caring about the fake ah crew to seeing them as pawns in his mastermind game of controlling Los santos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Pawn Checkmates a King

**Author's Note:**

> Props to anyone who gets what the grunts' names are a reference to.

It wasn't that he didn't care. It wasn't that he was cold hearted and apathetic. It had hurt when he left. It had hurt them, it had hurt him. But he knew he couldn't stay. He couldn't stay, because every moment he spent with them he felt himself grow _content_. He felt himself stop wanting more, he felt the small moments alone at the base meaning more than any heist they did. So he left, without a word of farewell. He was there one day and gone the next, and the Fake AH Crew was down one member.

He started from square one, recruiting scrawny kids off the street or rebellious teenagers who got their kicks from setting cars on fire or robbing a convenience store for no other reason than to get an adrenalin rush in their alcohol addled minds. He set up a base on the opposite side of the city, staying small until he had enough members. Soon enough there were kids covered in bulletproof vests and all types of masks that they sold in the shop near the beach. The kids had anything from pistols to rifles, but every time he looked out at them they always seemed hesitant and wary, like they didn't trust their own trigger finger. The Vagabonds, they called themselves, though he had never agreed on the name. He heard what the kids said in their bunks at night. They knew who he was; they knew he used to be part of the Fake AH Crew, one of the most famous crews in Los Santos. Usually his history was enough to win over smaller gangs and have them join his ranks. Other times it took a little more persuasion and bullet wounds.

Slowly his name grew, and he started hearing rumors. The Fake AH Crew was attacking the smaller branches of a new rising gang called the Vagabonds. He shook his head and put on a painted smile. They thought that they could get away with killing his members? They thought that just because they used to be friends, that they used to care about each other and spend time staring out over the polluted skyline of Los Santos that they could just cross a well-defined line? That they could fuck with his gang as much as they wanted? They would soon learn.

"You want to do what?" The kid asked, a strangled scream just barely catching itself in his throat. If he remembered correctly his name was James. James Wilson. Ryan had smiled at the irony and made the kid something of his right hand man. He was the first one to hear of new plans, he was the one Ryan trusted to get the word out of the next heist. He would usually just nod, nervous at what was to come, and go. This was a whole other ballpark entirely. This was more dangerous than anything they’d done before. "You can't just... just do that. It's the Fake AH Crew, for Christ's sake."

Ryan leaned forward, peering past the mask all his crew was so fond of wearing. They probably thought they made them look scary, intimidating, unreadable. He had worn a mask long enough to know that it was nothing but a piece of plastic that showed how cowardly you were, to believe that a fake face could save you. "I know what I said. Now spread the word. We're leaving tomorrow before any of the rats in the walls can tell anyone we wouldn't want to know." James gulped, the fear and doubt showing through the mask. "Do you doubt me, Wilson? Do you think I don't know _every inch_ of that base? Do you think that just because I used to know them that I would hesitate to put a bullet through their heads?" The kid looked scared out of his mind, quickly shaking his head. That would teach him to doubt his boss. Geoff never had that problem. He almost slapped himself for thinking of them again. "Go spread the word," he said coldly.

-.-

"I'm tellin' ya, the guy's nuts," Seamus, an armature drug dealer, said, shaking his head. James could agree, but he didn't dare say so out loud. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that their boss had ears in all the walls. The other residents of the room didn’t have the same reservations.

"Aw, I'm sure he knows what he's doing," Jordan called from across the room, flipping his old butterfly knife. He could see Kevin flinching every time the casing snapped shut. "He's been in this business almost as long as we've been able to hold a gun."

"Yeah, but the _Fake AH Crew_? Aren't they, like, super good or something?" Kevin asked, fiddling with his mask. He wasn't quite used to wearing it, being the newest member of the Vagabonds.

"Does he not know?" Seamus sounded stunned. Kevin shook his head, confused. "The boss, he was a part a' them. Onna' their best, actually."

"Why'd he leave then?"

"No one really knows," Jordan took up the story, "Some people say they double crossed him, so he took the money from a heist and left. Some people say that he thought they weren't doing enough, that they were too lax and lazy. No one's really had the guts to ask, but everyone he knows he left, regardless of the reason."

"Yeah but still," Kevin mumbled, "Attacking their base? That seems extreme even for him."

-.-

He knew the security, he knew the ins and outs of the building he had once called a home. He knew where everyone slept, what their mourning routines were, and how easy it was to scare Gavin shitless just by standing in the dark. Ryan stared through the windows with a sniper's scope, seeing movement throughout the building. He could see Michael trudging through the lower levels, trying to blow off steam, and he could see Ray trying to keep the base clean, or at least as clean as it could be with five men living in it. He saw his scouts, his smallest, tiptoeing through the halls, disabling the security to allow the bigger guns into the building. Ryan would come in last, once he got the signal, once everyone was caught and contained.

He heard James breathing heavily next to him. The poor kid was probably terrified. He shifted a bit, to allow blood to flow to his legs again, and he prepared to wait however long it took. He listened to the radio transmissions going through everyone's headsets. Every so often he heard a whisper or a call out, "Security disabled on the second floor," or "Two targets in the kitchen." Everyone was cycled through; everyone gave updates, except for Seamus. Ryan frowned at that, knowing he had given him direct orders to report in as often as possible. His radio had been dead silent for as long as he had been in the building.

He signaled James to check in. "Hey, Seamus, what's your position? How's your objective?"

The radio crackled with static for longer than it should have. "Uh, yeah, third floor security's disabled." James relayed it to Ryan. He had a feeling they had just hit a bump in their plan.

-.-

He snuck light-footed through the halls. The carpets were a soft black, undoubtedly to hide the beer stains and dirt that had yet to be cleaned. He didn't hear anyone at first, so he made his way quickly to the spot the boss had marked. It was a small black box inset into the wall, and it was apparently supposed to be the security system for that floor. As he gently lifted the cover he heard a click from behind him. He turned, shaking violently, to see a man lazily pointing a gun at his face with a neutral expression, as if he did this every day.

"What're you doing here, kid?"

He heard the cover clatter to the ground and his hands threw themselves into the air, shaking almost to the point that he couldn't feel them anymore. This was the first time he had been on the receiving end of a gun, and suddenly he knew how the victims of his muggings must have felt. His mind was kicked into a panic, and he couldn't do anything but stand there and stutter. "I- I'm sorry- I jus'- I was jus' followin' orders, ya know? I didn't mean- I didn't mean no harm."

Suddenly the gun was put away and Seamus almost collapsed in relief. He couldn't believe that worked. The man took a sip from a tall glass bottle that had something clear and undoubtedly strong in it. "Who're you working for, kid?"

He wracked his brain for any name James might have let slip out in their conversations. They weren't allowed to know the boss's name, at least not his real one. People could call him what he wanted, just not his name. Not unless he personally told them. "Ryan," he finally managed to spit out. The man's eyes widened and he almost choked on his drink.

"No, no, you're a dirty liar, aren't you? Why would Ryan-" a look of realization dawned on his face. "Ooh, yeah, maybe killing those gang members was a bad idea." His attention turned to Seamus, though he really wished he would just walk away and forget about him. "You know who he is, right? He was part of this gang, the Fake AH Crew. Six members, usually successful heists. But people don't hear about the failed ones. You know why? Because we never told them. You know why we weren't successful?" Seamus just shook his head whenever a rhetorical question was asked. It was better that he keep talking. His fingers tried to figure out how to disable the security without looking. "Because Ryan always fucking betrayed us in some small way. He would steal the money from the truck, club me in the face, or try to shoot Ray in a subway tunnel because he thought he could get away with it. If you think for one second that he won't throw you out into the curb as soon as your worth is expended then you're dumber then you look." His fingers stopped moving.

"Is that... is that true?" He asked shakily. He was a kid, that was it. He was a kid who had a whole life in front of him and here some stranger was telling him that it could end in a moment because one man thought he was worthless. He wasn't sure what feeling enveloped him at that point, but he knew it wasn't good for Ryan. He heard his radio crackle to life, James asking, "Hey, Seamus, what's your position? How's your objective?"

The man gave him a knowing look, and he gently touched the gun at his side, an encouragement and a threat rolled into one. "Uh, yeah, third floor security disabled."

The man smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "You might have just saved your life. I suggest you run, though. Take your friends with you, if you care about them. Don't throw your life away just yet."

-.-

He walked into the building with confidence. He walked in thinking he had won. Every scout he sent in had confirmed that the targets had been secured and contained. Too bad that they had all had a long chat with a Fake AH member beforehand. When he walked into the room the scouts had claimed held his old crew he knew he had been betrayed. There was nothing in the room besides the old table and chairs that they used to plan the heists. There were still six chairs. He heard the door slam shut and lock, and he quickly swung around, a hand reaching for his gun, only to be stopped by one pressed against his temple. "Long time no see, Ray."

"Shut up," the hard voice answered him. It wasn't the voice he was used to, the one that was quiet but calm and light in all conversations. It sounded broken. "Your little plan's failed. Kids don't make a good gang, you should know that."

"Yeah, I figure they'll grow, though. Kids don't stay kids, especially in this line of work." He said, slowly reaching and drawing his gun. "Give it time and the right leader and it'll grow just fine."

"Why'd you leave?" Ray choked out, the gun starting to shake. "You didn't even tell anyone that much. You just up and disappeared one day. We thought you'd died."

"I needed something new. You guys were just holding me back." He smiled at Ray, a cruel thing that didn't mean quite the same thing it used to. "I didn't tell anyone because I knew you'd just try to make me stay. I didn't want to stay and my mind was made up. Sorry, Ray, but I moved on." He whipped his gun out, almost managing to pull the trigger.

Ray was always the quicker draw, though, and the last thing that he heard before black enveloped his vision was, "I did too."

**Author's Note:**

> art for this fic: http://renegadeartist.tumblr.com/post/108038679131/like-the-smallest-bee-packs-a-sting-like-a-pawn


End file.
